My feet beat a rhythm across the Shopping Arcade floors,
and in through the swinging doors.
Up speeding lifts, to counters packed with attractive goods
and gifts.

Now, making straight for the place where there is glamour
for the face, one spies lipsticks by the score, so many
shades that one cannot but adore.
I must buy more.

That concealing blemish cream which smoothes on like a dream,
Is a must. They still stock it, I trust.

Eyebrow pencil in colour ‘blonde’, which just has to be donned,
and mascara in black.
I think I’m on the right track.

Some shadow for the eyes too, in gold, brown, silver, or blue.
It’s so reflective and so effective.

My countenance is now furnished and burnished. Such finesse.
And now I have to confess, that I am ready
to launch a new me, with a new philosophy.

So with my shopping complete, my feet retreat and beat
a rhythm across the Shopping Arcade floors,
and out through the swinging doors.


© Ernestine Northover

Ernestine Northover

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/furnished-and-burnished/